


His Fair Gentleman

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Anachronism Stew, Bathing/Washing, Choking, Credence is a brat, Dom!Credence, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, Graves is a criminal, Hair-pulling, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light BDSM, M/M, My Fair Lady AU, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Out of Character, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rimming, Sexual Slavery, Sorry Not Sorry, Spanking, Swearing, Switching, Whipping, dynamic flip, graves is a closet size queen, irish graves, mild salad tossing, not period typical sexual deviance, probably, shushing during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9261887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Rescued from a short stretch in the stocks before possible execution, Graves now owes his life to a young nobleman who seems to have less than honorable intentions.How fast will he learn his new place?[A loose adaption of My Fair Lady that would make Audrey Hepburn blush. and everyone ever quite frankly]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this will probably have 3-4 parts. depending on if my interview goes well tomorrow, i may write more for it.

 

The kitchen was full, the stables as well, all that Credence Barebone really needed to complete his perfect household was a proper valet, and perhaps a lover or two.

That was what brought him back to town during one of the coldest nights of the winter so far with thunder rumbling, menacingly in the distance, and though his manservant and butler had protested, he’d ignored them. He hadn’t inherited his estate to let other people tell him what to do. Half of his life he’d bowed and scraped and kissed the ground Mary Lou had walked upon, until god had done him the wonderful service of letting someone attack her leaving the opera, while he was home watching over his little sisters.

Yes it might have been cruel to think of it like that, but she’d been a cruel woman.

She deserved worse. He deserved the world.

Now he had it.

All he lacked was someone to share it with, and to keep him amused. There had been no one of interest at the opera house, and all the decent ladies seemed to be getting engaged. Luckily Credence was equally inclined to both sexes, but he much preferred the fairer. He’d yet to meet a male lover who could quite keep up with him.

A commotion down a dark alleyway caught his attention, and he told his butler, Abernathy, a man with a pinched face and a sneer fit for a rat, to go investigate.

Apparently a man had tried to pick pocket an undercover policeman, and was now being prepared to be dragged away in manacles.

On a cold night like that, the man might die in the stocks while he awaited the joke of a trial.

Abernathy whispered in his ear, and Credence sighed, feeling the slight prick of compassion he’d also gotten from his birth mother, along with the thirst for revenge he knew came from his father.

“Bring them both to me.”

They stood beneath an overhang belonging to a bakery, long since closed for the night and the policeman yanked the arm of the ruffian along with him, while Abernathy trailed behind, looking rather smug.

“What’s the meaning of… oh, Lord Barebone, forgive me, I did not recognize you.”

Credence sneered and ignored the officer’s simpering smile; he had no use for brown nosers.

“Tell me, what’s the going rate for bailing out a stiff like this?”

He was looking directly at the thief, and instantly found there was a fire in the dark eyes beneath such heavy brows the same dark brown as his hair, and though the face of the man was less than perfectly clean, he was extremely attractive, perhaps a decade or less older than Credence.

“Oh my lord, you don’t want anything to do with this one. We’ve been after Graves for months. He’s robbed half the citizens of London, and now he’s come here, come to bother the good people of Wiltshire.”

Credence set his jaw, and finally turned his gaze to the cop, who suddenly seemed to realize his error,

“I said, how much?”

“About fifty pounds, my lord. He really should go in for life, the amount of trouble he’s caused.”

Credence gave him a tight smile, and jerked his head towards Abernathy, who instantly stepped forward, producing the correct amount of money plus a little extra.

“I think that should more than cover your inconvenience. Tell the chief when you see him I’d be delighted to join him next week in his opera box or for dinner.”

 The stammering gratitude of the officer fell on deaf ears as he stared down at the sum of notes in his hands, and Abernathy relieved him of the thief’s manacles, and tugged him along, over to stand properly before Credence.

He didn’t look very grateful, but Credence supposed even that could be fixed.

“Should I bow, _me lord_?”

An Irishman then.

Credence smirked,

“Please, feel free. But it’s not necessary. Do you know what I’ve just done for you?”

The man eyed him, up and down, once, and then a second time, before he nodded sharply.

Credence pursed his lips,

“When I ask you a question, I expect you to answer, aloud. What’s that now?”

“Yes, _sir._ ”

Credence huffed,

“Now, now, Lord is good enough for me. Follow my good man here to the back of the carriage, and we’ll journey to your new home shortly enough.”

His driver had pulled up beside them, smartly, as the storm had more than reached the city, and was beginning to wet the streets with almost sideways sheets of rain.

He didn’t see if the man nodded or not, but he suspected he probably was still processing what had just happened.

*

Percy Graves was at the end of his luck, and he’d only just resigned himself to his fate when someone had called out, and stopped the bobby just on the upswing of his club.

Never mind the fact he was already in handcuffs, they always suspected he’d struggle, and by Mary, Jesus and Joseph they would be right.

But the hit never came and instead he was being pulled away from the end of the alleyway, a sort of place he was used to bleeding in and waking up in the cold starkness of a jail cell, and some dandy was offering twice of what he’d ever stolen for his life?

Judging by the little lord’s clothing and expression, he thought the whole world was his, and maybe it was. He looked away from the sharp cheekbones and long dark waves of hair because it was probably disrespectful to stare, and if he didn’t know better, he swore that the copper got handed twice the sum he was offered.

He might have had self preservation skills, but that moment he couldn’t quite care.

The Lord, for of course he was a noble lord with perfectly shined shoes and starchy collars, told him in no uncertain terms that he was now his property, and that should have made Percy want to cut and run, but the fact that he was quite outnumbered by the man’s servants gave him pause.

So he did as he was told, reluctantly.

The carriage stopped outside and in front of a massive estate, possibly big enough to house over a hundred people, and he was pushed down off his seat and shoved inside the front doors, unable to stop gaping at his surroundings.

“Take him to the laundry room. Give him a proper bath. Then bring him to my room. I’ll find something decent for him to wear for the night.”

“Send him up, without anything after he’s been cleaned?”

That caught his ear, and he turned, wide eyed, to watch the long haired lord nod,

“No shame in stealing from a cop in broad, uh, night, so I don’t suppose you feel any bad for yourself, do you?”

Percy just blinked, and then shrugged,

“Whatever me lord wants.”

For a split second he thought the man hovering at his side might hit him, but the lord just smiled, and then turned on his heel to climb the stairs.

“Come on you.”

A sharp tug to the manacles still clamped around his wrists, and he was being dragged away again, towards the place where he’d be told to leave his final amount of dignity behind it appeared.

The only pleasurable bit of it was when the cuffs were removed, and then there were several neither nice nor pretty ladies yanking his muddy and soaked clothes away, and forcibly shoving him into an empty tub.

“How do ye propose to get me clean like this?”

They shushed him and then lifted up what looked like a silver plated brush with no bristles.

The next thing he knew, hot water was scalding his skin, all over, and soapy rags were being harshly rubbed on his body.

Oh they got him clean all right.

Might have taken off the first layer of skin too.

“Did the master say he wanted you shaved? No beard or none of that?”

Percy didn’t quite flinch at the idea of someone else putting a blade to his face, but he answered as coolly as he dared,

“I don’t recall ma’am.”

The ladies exchanged a glance and then shrugged,

“On your own head be it. Now get out.”

Percy got to his feet, suddenly rather shaky, whether from the heat of the water or the position he’d been in, and suddenly he was being overwhelmed with fluffy white towels, till not a drop of water remained on his skin, and he was standing in the room naked as the day he was born, still surrounded by several members of the only somewhat fairer sex.

“Go on then, Abernathy will escort you to the master’s room.”

“Oh he’s _master_ now is he? I thought it was Lord.”

He received no reply beyond a snort.

The man waiting for him outside the room didn’t even spare him a glance, no matter, he still brought his hands down to cover himself, for if he had nothing, Percy at least had enough forethought for that.

 “Here we are. No funny business now, or you’ll be hanging by your toes in the dungeon and there won’t be no one to save you.”

The man was mocking his accent, and with a cruel smile, he pushed open the grand double doors, and nudged him inside with a foot to the back of his calf.

If Percy had been anywhere else in any other situation, he’d have happily kicked that pathetic rat’s ass until he was black and blue all over, but unfortunately it didn’t seem like an option.

*

Credence turned around the second he heard Abernathy’s voice in the hall, and when his newest purchase stepped inside his room, reluctant or not, he fought the urge to stare.

Freshly bathed and smelling sweeter than he probably ever had in his life, the man was truly a vision, even as he looked around the room and also pretended to be disinterested. Dark hair still slightly damp clinging to his forehead and sides of his temples, and just a couple days of growth on his face.

Credence knew that look, he’d been that way for the first year of his life as an orphan.

“Come here. Let me look at you.”

It was his right, now. So when the man obeyed, and stood, back straight, in the exact center of the room, Credence paced around him.

“Move your hands, put them to your sides.”

Improper nothing, the man was _his_ now, for him to do with as he pleased, and it pleased him immensely to observe just the sort of equipment he was bringing to the mansion.

Credence had approximately three past male lovers, two paid, and one by chance met at a church service of all places, and all of them paled in comparison to the man before him. In beauty, in giftedness of form and even age.

His hands itched to touch the man, but he wouldn’t, not yet.

No point giving into temptation so quickly. He wanted the man to be just as eager, even if he felt compelled to do so.

“What’s your name, thief?”

The man’s jaw clenched and he looked up from where he’d been staring at the carpet to meet Credence’s eyes, sending another wave of heat through his body, straight to his cock.

“Percy Graves. I’m only a thief by necessity, me lord.”

Credence’s hand flared out from in front of his chest to slap the man across the face, and he saw color blooming on his cheek, even as he merely turned his head, not reacting as much as he could.

“Don’t speak out of turn again. I didn’t ask for your excuses, Graves, merely your name. So I know who to call when I need something.”

The man, Graves, nodded, and blinked, still looking away from him.

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

Graves did so, and there it was again, the fire in his dark eyes, and Credence bit his lip, fighting the urge to give in to what he really wanted, to command the man to his knees, to make him really work for his eventual freedom.

“You will be under my roof, and you will be fed and clothed. You will do all that is asked of you, you will behave, or there will be far worse than a jail cell for you to rot in, am I understood?”

Graves nodded.

“Answer me aloud.”

His palm tingled, and he wanted to hit the man again, but he knew it would not help him earn his favor. Not that he needed that.

“Yes. I understand, Lord Barebone.”

Credence smiled.

“Good job. Now, let me give you something to wear. I don’t want anyone to molest you, lest they become distracted by your enticing form. You belong to me, and no one else.”

He turned away, but eyed the man in the mirror on his vanity as he gathered the clothing he’d already picked out as he waited, and he saw the man looking right back at him.

“Thank you, _my lord_.”

Credence passed the stack over to the man, who accepted them gingerly, as if expecting another hit.

“You may dress here.”

He moved to sit in one of his closer lounge chairs, and leaned against his left arm, watching as the man looked at the clothing, blinking slightly.

“You do not wish me to stay the night here with you? My lord.” Graves added, almost as if an afterthought and Credence sighed heavily, and brought his other hand to his face, stroking his chin as if in thought.

There was a war going on in his head, and he desperately wanted to give Graves a matching set of marks on his face, as well as his neck, but really, it was late, and he was tired.

“Not at all. I appreciate your eagerness to do your duties. Dress, and you may be dismissed. I want you at your full strength before I call on you again.”

“Thank you my lord.”

Credence smirked, watching as Graves slowly pulled on the clothing, fastening the buttons and pulling up the zippers, hiding his surprisingly fit form from his sight again.

“Perfect. Now, give me a goodnight kiss.”

Credence got to his feet and walked over to the man, standing before him with a hand outstretched.

His heavy brows met, and he looked at Credence before speaking,

“You wish me to kiss your hand? My lord.”

Credence nodded,

“On your knees.”

Graves got down slowly, clearly reluctant, and then took Credence’s hand in one of his own, perhaps a bit more roughly than he should have, and brought it to his mouth, lips just grazing his knuckles, and he lingered, before Credence could feel a hint of warm wetness glide against his skin.

The man was quite obscene and did far better than Credence had ever imagined.

“That’s enough. You may go.”

Graves dropped his hand, and immediately got up, and Credence realized with a start, even barefoot, he hardly had an inch of height on the man.

“Goodnight, _my lord_.”


	2. Chapter 2

Percy followed the rat faced man back down the stairs, and made no comment when the redness of one side of his face was remarked upon, relishing the way he brought the little man to anger and how the slamming of his door rung in his ears for a few moments afterward.

The room he had been led to was tiny, and held merely a cot and a tiny window, overlooking what appeared to be a garden.

It wasn’t terrible, but it sure wasn’t what he’d been picturing for becoming some nobleman’s live-in whore.

Then again, he didn’t even know that was really what he was to be.

Lord and Master of the house could need a valet, a personal assistant, or…

Percy sighed.

He was lying to himself to make it seem better, he knew it.

It was as if he’d just traded one set of chains for another, but the new one had many more subtleties and possibly enumerable rules. The pretty faced Lord wasn’t terrible to look at true, but there was no doubt that he was a more than a bit of a snotty brat.

Percy supposed that was what a soft life and upbringing wrought. Someone who’d never been told _‘no’_ a day in their life, and now expected the world to kiss his feet.

He was actually surprised the young man hadn’t told him to do just that. Kissing a hand was nothing.

The slap had been unexpected, but he had spoken out of turn, and he supposed the young man probably had a temper to go along with his bad manners.

Oh, it wouldn’t do to think of him like that. Something might accidentally slip out, and lead to a harder beating.

Percy had a fitful night of sleep, and only woke up to the cry of a rooster, and the hard pounding of a fist on his door.

“Get up. Lord Barebone wants you to bring him his breakfast.”

Percy fought the urge to roll his eyes, and followed the rat faced man all the way down the unfamiliar halls to the kitchen, and took up the gleaming silver tray in hand, marveling at the lightness of the metal, except for when additional dishes were placed in it.

“Don’t spill anything, or he’ll know, and you’ll get it.”

The cook hissed at him, something like a twisted sort of concern in her eyes, and Percy nodded.

He walked carefully and probably more than a little too slow, taking each step with care, until he reached the top, and could make his way to the double doors leading to the master bedroom. One of them was cracked open, and so he nudged it open all the way with a foot, before proceeding inside, a pithy greeting on his lips, which died the second he laid his eyes on the bed.

The lord was lounging atop his sheets, completely naked but for the newspaper clutched in both hands, blocking his face and upper body but for his arms, so Percy had a permissible view of his legs and waist.

Not to mention the almost dizzying sight of his groin in repose.

“Your breakfast, my lord?” He was barely able to choke out the words.

A rustle sounded as he lowered the paper, and a smile was quirking his lips.

“Oh yes. Good. Bring it here Graves.”

There was more than enough space for two or even three people on the bed, so Graves paused, standing over him with the tray, unsure where to place it.

“The table, right there.”

Precise words given to him, as if the lord could sense his question and Graves turned to see a small bedside cabinet just wide enough for the tray, which he set down, only letting go when he was certain it could not accidentally tip over.

“My lord, will that be all?”

A low chuckle sounded, and the paper rustled again, that time as the young man tossed it aside.

“Not at all. Fix my tea. Two sugars and just enough milk to make it as pale as your skin.”

Percy swallowed thickly, and moved to do as he was asked, trying to ignore the weight of the dark eyes on him.

He glanced away to make sure the milk and sugar was stirred in, and when he looked back, expectant to the lord, he nearly choked on his own saliva.

The lord was stroking his cock, lazily, languid, as if he had all the time in the world. Well, Percy supposed, he did.

“Thank you Graves. What’s wrong? Never seen a man touching himself before?”

Graves inhaled and tried to think of something, _anything_ to say that wouldn’t come off as insulting or self deprecating, and the lord merely laughed again.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered. But it’s only fair, I thought. I saw you last night, and now you see me. Tell me I’m beautiful.”

The hand moved faster, and Percy found himself biting his lip, eyes locked on the movement and ears only hearing the slap of skin against skin.

It stopped.

He blinked, and found the lord staring at him; arms crossed, cock still hard, pink and flushed like the left side of his face from the young man’s slap had been.

“Well? Don’t make me get the belt before breakfast.”

Percy unlocked his jaw, and spoke, voice coming out a bit raspy,

“You’re beautiful, my lord.”

The lord pouted slightly, and then lifted a hand, crooking a finger,

“Come, kneel, you can take me on your tongue, since it took you so long to find it.”

Percy’s eyes widened before he could stop himself, and he knew there was little he could say to get him out of his current predicament.

The lord shifted so that his legs were hanging off the edge of the bed, and thrust himself boldly towards Percy’s face as he moved into the desired position.

“Go on. Touch it, and then put it in your mouth. No teeth or I’ll let Abernathy whip you.”

Percy swallowed again, and reached out a hand to stroke over the entire length of the shaft, and then leaned down, dragging his lips against just the head of the young man’s cock at first, wetting his lips with his tongue, and then engulfing it entirely, as much as he could, while his hand gripped and steadied at the base.

“Mmm, good, yes. Use your tongue, go on.”

There was a hand in his hair, fingers gripping tight, and he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate properly on moving his tongue against the underside, and also sucking tightly with his lips. He knew what felt good, and he wished he’d known someday that he might need to take pointers from some of the ladies of the night that he’d once borrowed time with.

When the lord fell onto his back, only to arch and push his hips harder against Percy’s face, he suspected he was doing well, and the hand in his hair tightened only slightly, just on the edge of painful.

“I’m so close, god. I wanted you to do this last night, I but I said to myself, oh a little self control never hurt anyone, but damn, I was wrong. I could have had you twice.”

Percy paused in his movements, and pulled back only to keep his hand working,

“Do you want to make a mess of me, or should I keep you inside my mouth?”

The lord looked up at him, bracing on one elbow, and cocked a brow,

“Aren’t you sweet? Asking how I want to come. I think for now, the less mess the better. Put me back inside you, and swallow me down.”

The hand shifted from his hair to pat his cheek, and Percy felt surely as if his face was on fire. Not from pain, but from secret delight at being used so well.

He’d never, ever, thought he’d be on his knees for another man, but he could feel himself more than halfway hard in his new pants and he hoped he would be able to escape the room before the lord noticed.

He dipped back down to pull the young man’s cock into his mouth, the bitter and salty taste of copious pre come mingling with his own spit, and he doubled down on his movements with his hand and his tongue, until the hand returned to his hair, and the young man’s hips were trembling beneath his other hand, so he squeezed tight, as he felt the cock in his mouth pulsing against the back of his throat.

“Ugh fucking hell.”

Percy pulled back, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, ensuring he hadn’t made a mess of himself or the young man’s body and when the lord sat back up, he swore he saw his arms shaking.

“Well done. Was that your first time? Giving?”

Percy nodded, then remembered himself,

“Yes, my lord.”

The lord smirked,

“More than satisfactory. Back to your feet now.”

Percy could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he did so. So much for stepping out without being noticed.

“Oh, what’s this? You quite enjoyed yourself too. How delightful. May I? Of course I may. Hold still.”

Percy fisted his hands behind him, grabbing his own wrists so hard his fingers began to hurt as the lord leaned in close, rubbing his cheek against the side of his pant covered thigh, humming.

“You liked that? You liked sucking my morning hardness away, didn’t you?”

Percy spoke through gritted teeth,

“Yes my lord.”

“Come now. How fast can I get you taken care of, so you won’t be distracted when it’s time to dress me? Today you’ll be my valet. Then you can accompany me on my morning ride over to visit my new neighbors. Some sweet couple who’s moved in to the mansion by the lake, can you imagine?”

 “Fairly quickly I’m sure, my lord.”

The young man was grinning, Percy was rather certain, but he tried not to look at him. Especially when he felt the soft plush lips make contact with the head of his cock through his pants.

Then there was warm wetness, the lord’s tongue, and his mouth both working over him, without even contacting bare skin, Percy could feel himself gasping, teetering on the edge.

The heel of the young man’s palm ground over him, and he was thrusting his hips, chasing the friction, before spilling himself into his pants, against the warmth of the lord’s touch.

“Oh, my. How long has it been for you? Hmm. Now this won’t do. You’ve made a mess of my gifted clothing. Take your pants off.”

Percy unclenched his hands and did as he was told, knees feeling a little weak, and he looked back up at the lord, as he held his folded over and come stained pants in hand.

“Don’t be upset with me, thank me. Come now, tell me.”

The lord blinked up at him, and the curl of his lips told Percy he’d better answer promptly. So he did.

“Thank you, my lord.”

His hands wrapped around the pants, strangling the fabric like he wished he could do to the lord’s slender neck.

“Good. You’re welcome. Now sit down. I must finish my breakfast before it gets cold.”

*

Credence ate as calmly as he could even though his every nerve seemed to be jumping, trying to escape his skin and crawl over to touch the body of the man beside him.

The second he’d finished, and properly brought a cloth napkin to gently dab at the corners of his mouth, he turned to Graves.

“Go to my closet and fetch two pairs of black slacks, a grey silk shirt, blue vest, and green cravat.”

The man got to his feet, and proceeded to do as he asked, giving Credence a perfect view of his bare backside as he went, and he fought the urge to sigh.

He stacked the empty dishes and cups and pushed the tray aside, sitting patiently and waiting for the man to return, which he did promptly, with his arms full of the requested clothing.

“Set them on the bed, and then stand facing the headboard, right there.”

“My lord?”

Graves cocked a brow, and Credence smirked.

“You didn’t answer me before leaving. So you’re going to be punished for your insolence.”

“My lord…”

“Don’t try to argue. It’ll just make it worse. Consider yourself lucky. I’ll just use my hand, instead of my belt. Because you were so good with your mouth.”

He saw the man’s hands tighten on the end of the bed, knuckles turning almost white, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling again.

Just obedient enough to scrape by, but still with rebellion blossoming inside of him. Graves truly was perfect.

He had no idea.

Credence walked over to stand behind him, and reached out first to caress the flesh before he hit it and he could feel the man jump slightly.

“Oh, so eager. Pull up your shirt waist so I can see better, and bend over.”

The first slap took him by as much surprise, and he heard Graves’ just barely muffled grunt of pain.

He wasn’t _that_ strong, so perhaps the man had never experienced such discomfort before.

Credence leaned around and could see the man’s still softened cock pressing hard into the wood of the frame, and he grinned. Perfect indeed.

“Count for me. I think ten will do.”

Graves’ voice was strained, and every time Credence’s palm smacked his skin, he jerked forward, flinching away, until both his ass cheeks were bright red.

Credence cradled his hand, flexing his fingers, and winced a bit himself.

Next time he’d need to use the belt, lest he be unable to get himself off with a sore hand.

“Ten. Thank you my lord.”

Credence licked his lips,

“Turn around.”

Graves did so, moving somewhat sluggishly, and then Credence could see why. Reluctant as he may have been to receive his earned slaps, he was hard again, his cock red and drooling up against his stomach, making a mess of his shirtwaist.

“Oh my, look at you.”

“Apologies, my lord.”

Credence clucked his tongue, stepping close enough to lift a hand to graze the fingers over the head of the man’s cock, feeling him jerk his hips unconsciously, ripping a gasp from his throat.

“No need for that. A job well done. But now you need a new shirt as well. I don’t want you walking among the halls in fine clothing I gave you, and yet covered in your own filth. Take it off.”

Graves moved quickly,

“Yes my lord.”

Clearly he wasn’t eager for more of a spanking, which almost made Credence pout, but then he remembered, of course, he could bring him off again before they got truly dressed for the day.

“Tell me Graves, have you ever fucked a man?”

The quick jerk of his head followed by the proper verbal reply made Credence smile.

“Well, consider it your lucky day. I want you to fuck me. You’ll stop when I tell you to, even if you haven’t come, is that understood?”

Graves nodded, cheeks flushing slightly to Credence’s amusement,

“Yes my lord.”

His words were again strained, and Credence couldn’t help clapping a bit, giddy.

“Excellent. Come along now. We haven’t got all day.”

He moved back onto the bed, reaching over to his other bedside table to retrieve the little jar of slick clear gel he used for times such as the current one, and when Graves followed him proper, and sat gingerly on the bed, he pushed the man onto his back with a hand on his chest,

“You lie down, and I’ll be atop you, got it?”

Graves, looked as if he was going to say something else, and then thought better of it,

“Yes my lord.”

Credence sighed,

“That really is tiresome. Call me Credence, when in here, in bed, or my quarters. Got it?”

“Yes my-Credence.”

He smirked,

“Good.”

He hovered over the man, working himself up to three fingers, what he suspected would suffice for Graves’ cock, and then slicked up the man, just to see his eyes roll back into his head and watch his jaw drop.

“Mmm. Keep in mind, I’m only doing this because I don’t have the patience to prepare you for me to fuck _you_ , got it?”

“Yes Credence. Thank you.”

He lifted himself up and began to sink down on Graves’ cock, and let out a slow breath as he let the man fill him up entirely, sitting still just a moment before bracing both hands on the man’s chest, sliding up to grip his shoulders for a better angle.

“My god, you feel incredible… Credence.”

Credence rolled his eyes,

“Yes, yes, I know. I didn’t ask you though. Be quiet or I’ll start counting lashes for after our outing today.”

He saw Graves bit his lip,

“Sorry Credence.”

“You’re forgiven, for now. Now, come on, fuck me.”

Graves started moving his hips, twisting just enough so that as Credence lifted up and slammed back down again he could actually feel a steady rhythm building, and when he dropped a hand to grab one of Graves’, to put it atop his cock, he let his eyes fall shut, and concentrated on chasing the feeling. It wouldn’t take long for him to get hard again, not with Graves’ cock consistently hitting that spot inside of him that was like a livewire.

The other hand that Graves had on him, at his hip, tightened and he could feel the man starting to breathe harder, possibly nearing his own climax.

Credence couldn’t help smirking, and he stroked himself harder with the help of Graves’ hand, using the man’s broad thumb to swipe over and over the highly sensitive head of his cock, until he was falling over the man, lips just brushing against his forehead as he came, spurting white fluid all over the man’s bare chest, clenching around Graves’ cock, and hearing him gasp, before practically jumping off of him.

“No.”

Graves lay back, panting, chest covered in Credence’s spend, and with his own cock still red and hard, practically standing up straight.

“What?”

Credence cocked a brow,

“You heard me. You can’t come right now. You can’t question me either. That’s five. For later. Get cleaned off and get dressed.”

His heartbeat was thundering in his ears and he waited, wondering what the man would do. Would he try to touch himself? Resort to violence? Try to walk away?

Instead, Graves squeezed his eyes shut, and nodded.

“Yes, Credence. If you’ll excuse me…”

He got up and staggered over to Credence’s vanity, and took a fresh washcloth from a stack to wipe himself off, and then began pulling on the fresh clothing.

Credence stared at him a moment, before he remembered that the man would need to help him get dressed. Well, not _need_ to, but he was to be employed for that purpose.

He moved to stand at the front of his bed, and Graves brought over his shirtwaist, underwear and pants, and soon they were both fully clothed.

Credence stepped into his shoes, and nodded to a more scuffed looking pair beside the double doors,

“You can wear those, Graves. Go through the kitchen to return my dishes, and meet me outside by the stables in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Credence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did they have lube back then? fuck if i know. whatever. 
> 
> also im being mean to abernathy in this fic....sorrrrry


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today im trying to get hired to this amazing job so fingers crossed and have some smut (and switching aaayyyy)

Percy could hardly see straight as he did what he was ordered to, and even the sun seemed dim as he made his way outside.

He’d never been tortured in such a manner, and by a man who was so slender he could probably snap his neck in half without much thought.

So why was he letting him boss him around?

Well.

Percy didn’t know at that point, unless somehow he’d turned into a glutton for punishment overnight. Just because some pretty faced fop had bought him from the depths of a rotten jail cell.

He was going insane.

Riding hadn’t been that painful, as the young man didn’t hit nearly as hard he thought he did, Percy had experienced much worse as a child from his mum, usually with a paddle or a wooden kitchen spoon.

He barely heard what the lord said, and as such had to beg forgiveness again,

“My lord?”

He just smiled sweetly, and Percy could almost hear the calculating in his head.

“Ten with the belt. I _said_ , get off your horse and go knock on their front door, announce my presence.”

“Yes my lord.”

Percy had bitten his lip almost bloody by then, and he could taste it as he approached the tall door with mahogany wood.

He rapped smartly on the door, and waited until a servant opened it, and he tried to smile.

“Lord Barebone is here to see the lord and lady of the house.”

“Oh my, how wonderful. I’ll let the Goldstein’s know.”

He could suddenly feel a presence behind him and the young man pushed past him, pressing something into his hand, before murmuring, lips almost kissing the side of his face,

“Go tend to the horses, why don’t you?”

Percy’s reply of “Yes my lord,” had fallen on deaf ears, as the young man was already inside.

By the time Percy had walked back to both beasts sides, he realized it was a small bag of sugar cubes. No doubt a treat for the animals and meant to make him feel like he was even more in the wrong.

Lord Barebone cared more for his horses than his valet.

Or whatever the fuck he was.

Percy held out his hand to each mare in turn, and tried to keep his hand flat as possible.

The animals nickered at him gently, and then turned away to enjoy their snack, leaving him staring at the house, and wondering if he should go inside, once the horses were secured to a strong enough tree trunk.

He hemmed and hawed for about a moment before deciding to do it, and he walked pointedly away from the beasts back to the front door, knocking again, and was greeted by the same housemaid who curtseyed and let him inside.

He came upon Lord Barebone talking in the sitting room with a dark haired woman and a red haired man, both dressed in fine silks and wools, and he saw the young lord catch his eye, nodding.

Stepping forward, Percy walked to the young man’s side, and he addressed him at once,

“Are the horses content?”

“Yes my lord.”

“Excellent. My dear Tina, Newt, please meet my newest employee, Mister Graves. Currently doing double duty as my valet and manservant, while Abernathy trains up the rest of the remaining winter hires.”

“How wonderful. I hope he’s been taking good care of you, Mister Graves.”

The woman, Tina, stuck out her hand, in a surprisingly friendly gesture from a noblewoman, and Percy was so stunned he just stared at it a moment, before he felt the lord nudge him in the side with the corner of his elbow, and he took it, bringing it to his lips for a ghost of a kiss.

“Pleasure to meet you my lady.”

Newt sufficed with a handshake, and Percy wondered just how much trouble he was going to be in at the end of the day.

It wasn’t until they were both riding back to the Barebone estate that the lord finally addressed him directly.

“You did surprisingly well Graves. I’m impressed. No screaming, no running, no trying to pocket silverware. I’ll take five lashes off for that. That only leaves seven. What do you say?”

Percy sighed,

“Thank you my lord. I greatly appreciate your generosity.”

“Mmm, yes. I know. Pass the horses off to the stable master and then join me in my quarters in five minutes. I want a bath.”

*

Credence watched patiently as Graves appeared within almost two minutes, and proceeded to draw a bath for him, retrieving multiple white fluffy towels, so that he literally couldn’t complain about a thing, and he bit back a smile.

Graves was afraid.

He didn’t like being hit. Or perhaps he was frightened by how much he _did_ like it.

He started shucking off his clothing, seeing how long it would take Graves to notice, and not a handful of seconds later, the man’s large hands were on his body, aiding the slide of his jacket off, and thumbing at the buttons of his vest and shirt.

“Good job. You’re going to wash my hair and ensure no soap gets in my eyes.”

He didn’t leave room for argument, and Graves responded immediately,

“Yes Credence.”

“Very good. You remembered.”

“Yes Credence.”

He loved the way Graves said his birth name. The syllables rolled of his tongue in almost a sensual manner, and his accent caressed it in a unique way. Too many times his name had been a curse, a summons, and the sound of it had gone sour to his ear. Now there was a new person using it, and he was content.

No more words were spoken, as Graves finished undressing him, and he stepped into the tub, slowly immersing himself in the steaming water, and the man came to his side, washrag in hand, along with a small bar of soap.

For his hair there was a separate bottle of creamy blue liquid which ensured it would not become overly dry during winter, and he usually only washed it every few days.

When Graves’ hands finished over the rest of his body, a very detached and clinical method that told him it was as much for his own sanity as Credence’s, he brought them to his hair, and began to massage his temples with steady fingers, before pulling away only a moment to add shampoo, and properly work it into a lather.

“Hmmm… feels wonderful Graves. You’re doing so well.”

“Thank you Credence.”

“Do you enjoy this too? Serving me in more than a sexual manner?”

Graves only hesitated a moment,

“Yes Credence.”

Credence smiled, and leaned back, letting the man poured a pitcher of the water over just his hair to rinse it, with one hand carefully on his forehead to prevent any from accidentally getting in his eyes.

“I believe you.”

By the time the water was cold, Graves had long since helped him out of the tub and dried him off, so that his hair was merely damp when he made his way to the bedroom, and the man followed meekly behind him.

Well perhaps that was the wrong word.

He was not a perfect submissive, hardly at all, but he was certainly under the weight of the anticipation of his punishments. Credence snapped his fingers, and Graves was at his side instantly,

“Yes Credence?”

“Take off your clothes, and set them aside, on that chaise there. You will re-wear them in the morning.”

Graves’ eyes flickered to his own gaze for just a moment, and Credence saw his eyes widen, as he realized the implication.

“Yes Credence, thank you.”

Credence smirked,

“Don’t thank me yet. Seven lashes. I haven’t forgotten.”

Graves’ hands shook only a moment before lifting to his shirt, and Credence walked away from him to his closet, to retrieve one of his softer leather belts. He truly did not want to hurt Graves, not after how incredibly well he had performed that day, the first of many, he hoped, and he returned to find the man leaning against the end of the bed, ass in the air, and hands locked behind his neck, fingers interlaced.

He’d not mentioned anything about that, but it did ensure he couldn’t touch himself, whether on purpose or not.

All he had making any contact with his probably aching cock was the hard wood edge of the bed.

“You look breathtaking Graves. I hope you know that. Now, count for me.”

He looped the belt in one hand, as he’d watched his mother do so many times before she hit his back, and aimed carefully, for the meatiest part of Graves’ ass.

A loud smack sounded, and he could see the skin reddening already, at that light touch.

“One.”

“Hmm?”

“One, Credence.”

“That’s better.”

Through the seven strikes Graves never let out a single sound, beyond the correct counting, and at the end of it, Credence was short on breath, and desperate to have him, though he knew he would need a proper break, and possibly some peppermint ointment.

“Shh-hh, there you are. All done. What do you say?”

He could see the man’s legs shaking, and his knees were probably almost jelly from being locked so long,

“Thank you Credence.”

“Yes. Go lie down on the bed, on your stomach.”

“Yes Credence.”

Credence nearly threw away the belt back into his closet, and he flexed his hand, before taking hold of his own cock, stroking himself once, twice, and three times, before he realized he was far too close, and he wanted to be inside the man before he came.

There was a second jar beside the clear one with slick inside of his bedside cabinet, and he pulled it out and unscrewed it slowly, before dipping two fingers to retrieve enough white cream to liberally cover Graves’ almost glowing red ass.

“There we go, it’ll sting before it soothes.”

Rubbing it into the skin only took a moment, and at that, Graves let out a strangled groan, and Credence smirked.

“Feels good?”

Graves nodded,

“Yes Credence, very good.”

“Superb. While I have you here, I want you to stay put, I’m going to touch you, and you cannot come until I say, do you understand?”

“Yes Credence.”

Credence put away the peppermint oil infused cream and then grabbed the jar of slick, applying enough to coat his own cock, shivering at how wonderful it felt, and then three fingers worth.

He dragged his clean hand down the length of Graves’ back, and he could feel the man shiver, before delving between his still recovering ass cheeks, with the slippery fingers, to press just the tip of one digit inside his tight hole.

Graves made no sound, but his hips jumped, and Credence suspected he was trying to encourage him further, or put friction on his cock.

“Hold still, unless it becomes painful, in which case tell me at once.”

“Yes Credence.”

The words were somewhat muffled by the pillow Graves had his cheek against and Credence smiled, before continuing, pushing the entire finger inside of the man, and then he carefully added a second, slow, steady, working in until they were both up to the hilt.

“How is this?”

Credence knew his own voice was betraying him, he was breathless, and needed to come, and was only willing to do so if he could be fully buried in Graves.

“Good, Credence…”

It was as if he wanted to call Credence his lord, or sir, or _anything_ but his true name. But it was his gift to him, in their secret space.

When he tried to add the third finger beside the other two, Graves hissed out a breath, and shifted his hips again.

Credence couldn’t help it, he was so frustrated he reached out to slap the man’s nearest thigh with his free hand, and he swore it aided the slick slide of all three into Graves.

“What did I tell you?”

“Credence… please… I need to come.”

“You are not allowed to come when I am inside you. You will wait. Do you hear me?”

He stared intently at the man, until he saw him begin to nod,

“Yes… Credence.”

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

Credence withdrew his fingers gently as he could, and ran a hand over his cock, ensuring it was still slick enough, before shifting to kneel between the man’s legs, grasping a meaty thigh in each hand, spreading him open enough, to lean down and just press the head of his cock inside, to which he groaned, and nearly collapsed atop Graves at the feeling, the overpoweringly tight grip on his throbbing cock threatened to unman him before he’d barely breached the entrance.

“Oh god.”

He did fall forward a little, putting a hand on either side of Graves’ neck, continuing to push inside until he felt his own legs wobble, and he tried to breathe steadily, in and out, in and out, while his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

“Credence…”

Graves spoke, but he had no request or warning of pain, so Credence didn’t stop, not until he could feel the tight hotness of Graves’ ass completely enveloping his cock.

He held still for a moment, and barely pulled out to thrust back in, and felt his orgasm rush through him, a sob of a moan ripping out of his throat, and his hands fisted in the sheets beside Graves’ head.

“Oh god…”

He did fall down, just for a moment, and pressed his lips between the man’s shoulder blades, his entire body trembling.

“Graves… you want to come?”

“Yes Credence.”

The man’s voice broke on his name, and he could only smile dreamily.

“So fuck me.”

He had only a moment to register Graves shifting forward, yanking himself free, before the man was flipping him onto his back, suddenly looming over him, and capturing his lips in a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue, no tenderness.

He was so weak from his climax he didn’t protest, didn’t argue, he let the man be in control, as much control as he could muster, and he felt Graves’ hand on his cock, yanking roughly, wringing a second climax from him with little effort, and a touch of shock.

“Graves…”

The kiss only broke so the man could turn him over, and urge him up onto all fours, and then he was stroking himself, just enough, and Credence realized he’d merely wanted to steal slick for his own cock.

He hadn’t even been thinking.

The man could have fucked into him without any warning and he would have asked, no, begged for it.

He wanted to be possessed, to be taken, and Graves gave him that, thrusting inside with a punishing force, but still aided by slickness and his relaxed state from his two orgasms.

Credence felt a hand in his hair, still damp, tugging him back so that his neck was exposed, and Graves was kissing him there, biting slightly as his cock moved in and out of him quickly.

“Credence, is this what you wanted?”

God it killed him to say it, but yes.

He’d been torturing the man all day, and that was his reward.

“Yes.”

“Can I come, Credence?”

“Yes…”

Graves did so, with a groan that was so loud it made even Credence blush. Surely other servants would hear him.

The man let go of his hair only to put his large hands on his hips and moved his mouth to kiss down his spine, stopping only to pull out of Credence, and then he leaned down again, and he could feel the man’s mouth on the base of his spine, and there, where he’d just been inside him, as his lips and tongue teased and cleaned up his own spend, still oozing out of him.

“You’re such a fucking brat. You know that?”

Graves’ slap on his own ass took him by surprise, and he couldn’t even lift a finger to criticize him, to fight back, to threaten punishments he would relish doling out as long as the man enjoyed taking them.

Graves’ hands shifted, flipping him to toss him on his back on the bed, and the man hovered over him again, grinning down at him with a wickedly smug smile,

“No witty comeback? No warnings?”

Credence shook his head,

“You’ll stay won’t you? Overnight? Here?”

Graves sighed, and then fell down to his side, leaning up on one elbow to stare over at Credence,

“If you want me to.”

Credence nodded, already feeling exhaustion beginning to claim him,

“Yes. I do.”

He shifted to move closer to the man, putting a lean arm over his waist, and Graves didn’t stop him, or push him away, in fact, he thought he could feel an arm looping around his back, holding him closer.

Credence’s eyes fell closed, and he sighed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok kids well i finally got a somewhat steady temp job so idk how soon there will be anything up, so here's the final bit of this story. hope you enjoy!

Percy woke up in bed, beside the lord of the manor, and there was soreness all over his body. First and foremost, his backside was killing him, probably would make it impossible to sit down properly for days, even with the soothing balm the lord had provided, and second, his _ass_ was a bit sore, the lord was truly blessed between the legs, and Percy considered himself lucky he’d even spared a moment to try and prepare him.

“Mmm, good morning Graves.”

He felt the slim body shift against him, and lips were beginning to press against his cheek, and then on his own mouth.

“Morning Credence.”

“Are you hard?”

There was already a wandering hand groping him beneath the sheets, and yes, of course he was hard.

“Yes Credence.”

“Mmm good. Would you like me to put your cock in my mouth, my smart mouth that orders you around like a common slave?”

Percy wasn’t sure if it was a threat or a promise.

“I am your slave. Am I not?”

The lord shrugged, and then started to pelt kisses down his neck and chest, teeth only nipping against him occasionally.

“You are mine. I bought you. I own you. But you are still free to leave at any time. Did I not tell you? Merely bring honor to my name in all that you do, and you may go.”

Percy didn’t understand that.

He could leave, as long as he never spoke ill of Lord Barebone?

But why would he do something so stupid? The young man could probably have him hunted down like a common dog, even if he never spoke of the deeds that had been done inside private rooms or behind closed doors.

“Credence, you don’t mean that. You’re still delirious from the sex.”

“I assure you I am of sound mind and body, even if I do kind of want to fuck you instead of suck you.”

The lord was winking at him, and Percy felt his entire body flush with anger and arousal.

“So what if I stay? Am I to always be your pet? Your toy?”

The lord hummed against his skin,

“You’re certainly not cut out to be a gentleman, unless you’re mine. But yes. You are my kept lover. Does this bother you?”

Percy didn’t even have to think before he said,

“Yes of course. What will people think?”

The lord brought a hand to his cock, and thinking suddenly became infinitely more difficult,

“I don’t care what they think. I’ve adopted a career criminal and turned him into a pussy cat. He drinks the _best_ cream, and wears fine clothing. What business is it to them what you are to me?”

Percy tried to wrap his mind around the concept,

“But what am I to you? What purpose do I serve?”

The lord practically purred,

“You serve me. It is all the purpose you will ever need. You’re the best lover I’ve had so far, and the first of your kind. I don’t often pay for sex, you see.”

Another long lazy stroke of the lord’s hand over his cock, and Percy’s mouth had gone dry. The lord had moved further down his body, kissing the sensitive skin by his right hipbone and he couldn’t think straight.

“What other proclivities do you enjoy? Besides the beating?”

The lord hummed again right up against the head of his cock, his lips vibrating gently over the sensitive skin, and Percy swore his vision whited out for a moment.

“I would love to tie you up, fuck you until you came without ever being touched. You can hit me too, if you want. I enjoyed last night very much. The hair pulling? Genius. I love a hand on my neck too, but just one. Two can become dangerous. Other than that, nothing specific comes to mind.”

He dipped down in earnest, and Percy could feel him swallowing around the length of his cock, as he took it so deep the head bumped against his throat, but he never faltered, and seemed to be skilled in breathing through his nose.

The lord was making it impossible to argue, and perhaps that was the point, so Percy simply shrugged, and said breathlessly,

“If that is what you want, I will go along with it.”

The lord gripped the base of his cock with a hand, and flicked his tongue against the underside of the base, pulling back to circle the head, and Percy was gone, lost to the oblivion of his climax.

“That’s a less than ringing endorsement Graves, you know that. But perhaps you just need more time. Now, come, let us dress and attend a proper breakfast. I feel as if I haven’t eaten in days. Your delicious come doesn’t count.”

“Very well.” A sharp glance Percy’s way told him the pillow talk was over, and he swallowed,

“Very well Credence.”

The lord smirked, and ran a hand through his messy bed head.

“I can’t wait to tie you up.”

*

“Ever been to the opera Graves?”

Credence was asking the man, eyeing him from across the room as he finished his late lunch, and Graves looked up at him, where he’d been focused on polishing his boots,

“No Credence, I have not had the pleasure.”

Credence smiled,

“Indeed. Tonight will be your first true test, an outing in the city at my side. We may even run into people who know of you, your old self. Once you are done with my shoes, fetch the water pitcher, and my straight razor. You’re in need of a shave.”

Graves was quite handsome as he was there, with four days growth now, and the quiet burn of his dark gaze upon Credence, but he knew it would be much harder for anyone to place the former thief if he was truly dressed resplendent and looked as much like a gentleman as was possible.

Setting the boots aside, Graves did as he was told, and returned to Credence, still perched on his bed, dressed only in a night shirt.

“Sit. Let me do this for you.”

The towel on Graves’ shoulder was place so no shaving cream would stain his shirt and Credence only saw his eyes widen for a second when he pulled out the razor.

“Has anyone ever done this for you?”

Graves blinked,

“Only at a barbers, once, Credence.”

“Very well. Hold still now.”

Credence took one side of his face in hand, and gently leaned in close, so much so that he could have kissed the man’s forehead, as he drew the razor up his neck and chin, cleaning off a large portion of his beard in one move.

He may have never had to practice on himself before, but he’d done the same for lovers in the past. Some even asked for it.

Knife play was not his forte but he could certainly see the appeal, the closeness, and the intimacy. Graves was holding his breath it seemed, and Credence bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

The man was nervous for the moment? As if he thought Credence might try and hurt him on purpose?

Never.

Every swipe of the blade on Graves’ skin revealed more and more that without his beard, he looked younger, almost a different person.

When Credence finished, he reached down to clean the razor and retrieve a fresh wet rag, before he carefully wiped off Graves’ face, and stood back to admire his handiwork.

“Very handsome. I think you might even draw some attention to yourself from the opera house flowers. Come now; give me a kiss with that smooth face.”

Credence quirked his lips into a smile, and Graves got to his feet, as if trying to intimidate him with his minimal height advantage, still in his borrowed boots while Credence himself was still barefoot.

“Yes Credence.”

The man kept his hands at his sides, and merely leaned forward to close the gap between them, and Credence let his eyes fall shut, bracing for impact.

Graves’ lips were soft on his, as was his now freshly shaved chin and cheeks, and Credence decided he could gladly kiss the afternoon away, if he didn’t need to worry about finding a proper fitting suit for his companion.

“Hmmm, very good. Now come, we must look in my closet. I know I have some things of my father’s that will suit you. I had many fathers you see, nearly four. My mother constantly remarried for money.”

He wasn’t sure why he’d dropped that tidbit about his life to Graves’ ears, but he suspected it was just, well; the man was easy to talk to. His silence and confidence was Credence’s alone, and he trusted him, by now, to take proper care of any information he learned whether in the Barebone house or Credence’s bedroom.

“I see, Credence.”

He smiled tightly, and then shook his head,

“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me now. I just want to let you know, this is why I have so much. I didn’t ask for it, or work for it, but I do maintain it.”

He turned to look at Graves, who was watching him with a strange expression, not pity, but almost, curiosity.

“Yes Credence, you’ve done a magnificent job of running this place.”

He nodded, and then turned away, hands working fast, flipping through racks and racks of jackets and suits.

He wanted to find something in a dark blue, to bring out the man’s eyes, and compliment his skin more than straight black would do.

“Ah, here we are. You will wear this and I will wear the red, it doesn’t see the light of day, or night, nearly enough.”

“Thank you Credence. It’s beautiful.”

Graves stepped forward to accept the hanger and the folded pants, and Credence let his hand linger on the man’s, curling his fingers around his wrist, feeling how his pulse sped up, like a hummingbirds wings in the height of summer.

“Graves, you know I would want no one else at my side tonight, don’t you?”

The man’s eyes locked with his, and he almost looked like he wanted to smile,

“I understand Credence.”

*

Percy wasn’t quite crawling out of his skin, but almost. The only thing that seemed to be keeping him anchored to the ground was Lord Barebone’s arm through his own, and he could almost pretend the starched collar at his neck wasn’t irritating or itchy or any of the things it actually was.

The opera house was big and bright and full of noisy people dressed far nicer than he could ever be with borrowed finery or not. Everything about him felt like a lie, even with the lord helping him perpetuate it.

There had never been a time he’d have chosen being whipped bloody over the bed rather than being forced to mingle with polite society until that moment.

“Ah, here’s our box, and the illustrious chief of police himself. Don’t panic.”

The warning came too late, as Percy was already starting to sweat, but he pasted on a forced smile that hurt nearly as much as having the lord’s cock shoved down his throat before he was truly ready.

“Lord Barebone, what a delight to see you this evening.”

The chief spoke with pomp and bluster, and the lord simpered back in reply and tried to keep from looking bored. Percy knew all his tells by now.

“Yes Gellert, it is nice to be here. Allow me to introduce my valet, Mister Graves.”

Percy darted his gaze over to the lord, stunned he’d forgone a false name, and slightly impressed with his boldness.

“Graves is it? Charmed I’m sure. So tell me Lord Barebone, where did you choose to invest your stocks in during the last race? Picquery tells me you usually go for the underdog, how’s that been treating you?”

The lord squeezed his hand just a touch on Percy’s arm, and then continued talking to the chief until the lights flickered, indicating it was time to take their seats.

Percy was of course seated beside the lord, and even when the box had gone dark and all light was on the stage, he could feel the young man’s hand on his own.

“What do you think so far?”

The lord leaned over after about a half hour had passed, and Percy was playing with the ends of his black silk scarf to keep from falling over in boredom.

“Oh it’s quite lovely my lord.”

The lord snorted,

“Don’t bother lying to me. We can skip out at intermission. Besides, I’ve got a mindful of ideas to better entertain you, never fear.”

Percy looked over to catch the tail end of a smirk on the lord’s face, and for some reason that perked him up better than any high note of the soprano could hope to do.

True to his word, the lord was begging their fellow box mates apologies as he slipped out, claiming a horse had fallen ill, and he was short a stable master to take care of it.

Percy heard the concerned whispers and admirations about the lord even when they were several steps away, to say nothing of once they’d gotten back inside the carriage to journey home.

“You looked so good, the chief didn’t even pay you a second glance. He thought you were one of us. I caught a few ladies staring at you as well. I’m quite pleased.” The lord was sitting across from him, and tugged off his gloves as he spoke, with his voice low and almost a purr.

Percy eyed him and then shrugged,

“More of your skill and loaned attire than anything I did, my lord. But thank you for your praise; it makes me feel glad to be able to serve you properly.”

The lord blinked, once, twice, and then was surging forward, hands framing Percy’s face as he pressed a fierce kiss to his lips, stealing his surprised gasp away from his tongue.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that since we left the house.”

The lord was sighing, leaning back only to rest his forehead against Percy’s, and he wondered if the young man could feel his heartbeat racing.

“You did? …My lord.”

“So much. I want to have you before we left, but there wasn’t time. It might have wrinkled your suit as well. We can’t have that.”

“No my lord.”

The lord was dragging his lips and tongue over Percy’s jaw, down his neck, pushing aside the dreadfully stiff collar to loosen his tie and start undressing him right there in the carriage.

He weighed almost nothing atop Percy’s lap, and he could feel the lord’s slim hips framing his own as the young man straddled him.

He was unsure what to do with his hands.

“Touch me. Grab my ass, and pull me against you.”

Almost desperate to do so, Percy completely forgot to speak, to thank him, to agree, to do anything but comply.

His hands easily fit on the sides of the lord’s waist, and he slid them down to grasp at his fabric covered ass, shifting his own body so their crotches met, a slow grind that had him seeing stars.

The lord’s teeth nipped at the side of his neck, and his breath was hot on Percy’s skin,

“Oh god, I can’t wait to fuck you when we get home.”

*

Credence was almost dizzy with arousal, and had been just about to come in his pants against Graves in the carriage if they hadn’t been brought to a sudden halt, and interrupted by Abernathy yanking open the door.

The man made no comment, but Credence saw a hint of smirk on his face, which he felt he could have slapped off, but he was going to save his frustration for Graves.

“Put the horses away my good man.”

He took Graves’ hand in his own, and practically tugged him up the stairs, through the double doors, before kicking them shut, and then shoved him at the bed.

“Get undressed, and throw your clothes over there.”

He waved a hand at the lounge chair but wasn’t really seeing it; his other hand was already working on undoing his cravat and buttons to his shirt and vest.

“But Credence, what about your things?”

“Don’t worry about me. I managed without a valet for half my life. I just want you naked.”

“Yes Credence.”

He glanced over to find the man looking at him with a slow smile, and he couldn’t help grinning right back. The second he finally kicked off his shoes and socks, he moved over to the bedside table to pull out the slick and dipped two fingers into it to apply them to his cock.

“Get on the bed, lie on your back.”

He wanted to look at Graves as he pushed inside of him, wanted to let him see just exactly how he drove him crazy.

“Yes Credence.”

Graves did as he was told, and kept his hands at his sides, although he did fist the sheets in them, indicating to Credence that it was killing him not to be able to touch himself. His cock was already reddening, curving up towards his stomach, and he’d probably been hard since the second Credence had kissed him in the carriage, he’d certainly felt that way beneath him.

“Good, now you know, you can’t come while I’m inside you?”

“Yes Credence.”

“I’ll be quick, don’t worry.”

Credence winked at him, and pressed in with two fingers to start, ripping a groan from Graves’ throat, and his back arched, pressing his body closer, and he bit his lip to keep from chastising him.

If he wanted it, he got it.

“Credence, please.”

“Yeah I know.”

Credence withdrew his hand to wipe it on the sheet and then leaned down to capture Graves’ mouth against his, a kiss that was soft, slow, almost teasing, as he used his other hand to line his cock up to move inside, inch by inch letting Graves’ heat wrap around him.

“Mmm, god you feel so good.”

Credence was already on the verge of coming, and he could feel Graves trembling beneath him, fighting the urge to give in and touch himself, or to shift his hips, anything to gain friction.

“I want you to put your hand on my neck when you fuck me. You can bend me over the end of the bed.”

Credence murmured, watching as Graves swallowed thickly, and nodded,

“Yes Credence, thank you.”

He grinned,

“You’re welcome. You’ve earned it.”

He pulled back and thrust back in quickly, the tight grip of Graves’ ass almost driving him over the edge, and he could feel the man was equally close. The best kind of torture was watching him like this, since he knew Graves wouldn’t have the same privilege, being able to see his face when he finally came.

“Credence, please…”

It was becoming too much, Credence could tell, glancing down, he saw Graves’ cock leaking a steady puddle of pre come on his stomach and he cooed,

“Almost there my pet…”

When he did come, he pulled out of Graves so he would have less contact to tempt him to disobey, and stroked himself off over the man’s chest.

“Oh god… yes.”

He leaned back down to kiss Graves again, and he could feel the man’s heartbeat stuttering beneath his hand on his shoulder.

“Your turn.”

Graves responded with a growl, as per usual, and his hands were instantly burning a punishing grip into Credence’s hips, pulling his body flush to the man’s, just favoring him with a couple thrusts of his hips against him, his own softening and hypersensitive cock dragging against the slickness of his own mess and the man’s painful hardness.

“Credence, I hope you can hold on tight.”

Oh yes, he could.

Graves had Credence on his knees, hands bracing the end of the bed, waiting not so patiently, while he slicked up his cock, and then slapped his ass.

“Okay Graves, stop fucking around.”

The man was hovering over him now, just slightly rubbing his cock between Credence’s ass cheeks, grazing against his hole,

“Credence, why don’t you call me by my first name while we’re in here too, hmm?”

Credence blinked, and then nodded. Why not?

“What is it, I forget. You’ve fucked my brains out the last few days.”

He bit his lip, trying to hold back a smirk, and then he felt Graves hit him again, and he felt his cock give a twitch in reply.

“You’re a brat. It’s Percy.”

Credence wiggled his ass a bit, pressing back into Graves, no, _Percy’_ s cock, still teasing his entrance,

“Percy, fuck me.”

The second he finally obeyed, and began to push inside, Credence out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and the man’s hands started roaming his body, before one lighted on a hip, and the other slid up to wrap his fingers around Credence’s neck, and he could feel lips kissing between his shoulder blades.

“You look so pretty, all needy and eager like this. Makes me wonder who is really in charge.”

Credence hummed,

“I don’t think so Percy. It’s me. Always.”

The hand on his neck tightened, just a fraction, and he could feel his cock hardening again, even before Percy had fully bottomed out inside of him.

“Do you like that? You like me bending you over like this? Splitting you in half with my cock?”

Credence rolled his eyes, that was a _slight_ exaggeration, the man wasn’t even moving fast yet.

“Yes Percy, I love it.”

He cooed back, content to stroke the man’s ego even if he couldn’t touch him back.

The man’s hips snapped forward, and pushed the air out of Credence’s lungs, and he started to feel more than a little light headed, while he felt his cock start to ooze pre come against the wooden end board of the bed.

“Percy…”

He swallowed against the man’s hand, and his fingers loosened,

“Yes Credence?”

“Pull on my hair.”

Percy obeyed, moving his hand from Credence’s neck, which he was certain, would have enough bruises in the morning to require a high cravat before they could leave the house, and his fingers cared through Credence’s hair, gripping firmly.

He was still fucking into him, but the rhythm had faltered, and Credence knew he was very close.

“I’m gonna come, Credence, where do you want me?”

He smiled, and managed to roll his hips slightly, tightening around the man’s cock as best he could, and Percy let out a groan.

“Do what you want.”

“God.”

He closed his eyes and let the sensations overwhelm him, feeling Percy nearly fall forward over his back as he fucked him through his orgasm, and then the man’s hand left his hair to reach down and tug over Credence’s cock, urging him through another climax, and slicking his fingers with his spend.

“Mmm, you’re so fucked up.”

“Eat me.”

Another slap to his ass, but Percy was pulling away, and when Credence turned around to look at him, the man was licking off his fingers, the hand that had stroked him off.

“You’re a mess.”

Credence eyed the man’s chest, which was sticky and a bit shiny.

“Yeah well, what are you gonna do about it?”

Credence stared at him,

“What do you suggest?”

Percy cocked his head, and pulled the last, now clean, finger out of his mouth with an obscene pop,

“Give me a bath?”

Credence smirked,

“You’d like that too much.”

Pouting didn’t usually look good on anyone but himself, but on Percy, it was fairly devastating.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go. It’ll help me relax.”

They could both fit in Credence’s bathtub fairly easily, but the problem came when the water cooled, and neither of them had put a towel close enough.

“Goddamn it all.”

Percy cursed and Credence was too distracted, chasing a water droplet as it rolled down the man’s shoulder to his chest, with a finger over his skin.

“Hmm?”

“We’re gonna soak the floor on the way to the bed.”

“Why’s that?”

“There aren’t any towels nearby.”

Credence blinked, and looked over Percy’s shoulder, past his strong chin and ears that looked perfectly fit to nibble on.

“Oh.”

Percy brought a hand up to rub his thumb against Credence’s bottom lip, and his eyes were instantly back on the man’s dark ones,

“You know, I don’t think I ever really thanked you for saving me, and meant it. So thank you. Truly.”

Credence had never felt so young, nor so vulnerable, no matter how many times he’d been naked around him, under him, behind him, than in that very instant, pinned under the weight of the man’s gaze.

“You’re welcome Percy. It was the best decision I ever made.”

Percy’s mouth curved into a slow smile, and Credence felt warmth blossom inside him, despite the chill of the water,

“Shall I carry you to bed?”

Credence sighed,

“Not like this no. I can see a towel just around the corner. Go fetch it for me.”

Percy nudged him back, and stood up quickly, water sluicing off his body in sheets, and Credence was easily hypnotized, which made the man chuckle.

“Insatiable aren’t you?”

Credence shrugged,

“Maybe.”

He did drip across the floor a bit, but he returned quickly enough with two fluffy towels, and proceeded to help Credence dry off, before focusing on himself, and setting the towel down on the floor so there was a dry path to continue on to the bed.

Once underneath the covers, somewhat snuggled up next to Percy, Credence couldn’t help speaking again, far too personally about himself.

“I know what you were thinking that first day.”

“Oh yeah?”

The man was cocking a brow down at him, and Credence poked his chest with a finger,

“Don’t lie to me. I know what everyone thinks when they first meet me. Oh poor little rich boy nothing better to do with his time than boss around his servants and keep his own books or pawn them off on someone else. Well I’m that, but I wasn’t always.”

Percy’s arm wrapped around his back tightened, and his hand on his hip was rubbing soothing circles against his skin,

“Tell me.”

Credence squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed his cheek against Percy, right where he could hear his heart beating, a soothing rhythm that made it just a bit easier to relive old memories.

“I used to have a family, besides my adopted mother and her endless parade of husbands. I had two sisters, and they were my world. But things changed when she lost the first man, she started blaming me, hitting me, and I couldn’t keep up my studies and take care of my sisters. So I chose school over them. They were sent away to boarding school, and my mother only had me to pick on, to take out her failings on.”

Percy didn’t say anything, but he shifted so that he could press a kiss to Credence’s forehead, and his other hand lifted to card through his hair, gentle, but a firm presence stroking through the long waves.

After a moment, he continued,

“I thought surely by the time she’d gotten enough money for all four of us to be happy, to be free without needing some new lord of the manor, she’d leave me alone. But she didn’t. I finished school and came home during Christmas after graduating to find that she’d been in an accident. I’d never felt happier, even though it meant I now held all the responsibilities of the household. She’d been in between husbands.”

“And your sisters?”

Percy’s voice was a balm to him, and he smiled against the man’s skin,

“I send them money every semester, and they’ll be home with me for the summer next year. It’s the first time we’ll all have been together since the funeral. I can’t wait. I hope you’ll stay long enough to meet them… if you want.”

“Credence, I’d love nothing more. I’m so sorry for what you had to go through, I’m also sorry for the false assumptions I made about you.”

Credence nodded against him,

“It’s okay. Everyone does it.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

Credence could still feel Percy petting his hair, even as he drifted off, and he smiled, just a little.

*

Percy woke first that next morning, and he rolled over to see Credence sleeping on his back, head of dark hair a mess of dried waves just slightly kissing down his bare skin.

Along with a crisscross of white lines, dozens of scars, all down the length of his back.

Percy sat up at once, and stared at them, reaching out a hand to gently trace over the skin with his fingers. He’d never noticed them before, not really, always caught up in the heat of the moment when he had Credence beneath him.

“What happened?”

“It’s from my mother. She used a belt.”

Credence’s voice was slightly muffled as his cheek remained pressed to the pillow, and Percy felt his blood turn cold in his veins.

“God. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I learned the proper way to hit, to not leave marks.”

His shoulders shrugged, and he turned over to pin Percy with a stare, and he nearly lost himself in the intensity of his gaze.

“Is that why you like to hit me? Does it help?”

Credence nodded,

“The pain leaves me, the control is mine. But I still like when you hit back. It’s like, a way to give up control to someone I trust. I know you won’t really hurt me.”

Percy eyed the dark shadows that would likely fit his fingers if he were to align them, that were all along Credence’s slender neck, and he couldn’t say he agreed.

“What?”

Credence sat up, pushing away the sheets to wrap an arm around Percy’s shoulders, drawing him close to kiss at the corner of his mouth, suitably distracting him.

“I just, I don’t know. Don’t want you relying on that to make our uh, sex good. You should let me make love to you sometime. No pain involved.”

Credence hummed against him, and climbed further into his lap, slim legs straddling him easily, pressing him back into the pillows,

“Are you a closet romantic Percy? That sounds dangerously like a sweet gesture.”

Percy tilted his chin up to graze the side of Credence’s jawline with his lips,

“Maybe.”

“Can I still tie you up?”

“If you must. But no hitting.”

Credence smirked,

“Okay.”

Percy kissed him until he wasn’t smiling anymore, just breathless and begging.

*

**END**


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